Love Is a Battlefield
by Lothiriel84
Summary: AU. Jane never gets hired by the CBI, so he has to find a more "creative" way to work on the Red John case – a way that involves a certain petite brunette of our acquaintance. Title borrowed from the namesake song by Pat Benatar. Cover image courtesy of delugedpapercup.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note:** Written for the Mentalist Big Bang on LJ. A huge thank you to my artist delugedpapercup and to my wonderful beta tromana, who kindly made very detailed suggestions for all the scenes from Lisbon's point of view.**  
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**Chapter 1**

"Please sir, listen to me. I've spent the last nine months investigating the Red John case. I'm just asking you to give me a chance. My observations skills might come in handy to the CBI."

The supervising agent Virgil Minelli wasn't one to beat around the bush.

"We don't need a fake psychic meddling with our investigations, thank you."

"The fact that I conned people for a living should be enough proof that I'm good at paying attention to details, at the very least."

"Look here, Mr. Jane. You're not a detective, you're a victim. Go home and mourn for your family. I'll make sure to inform you when we catch the bastard."

Patrick Jane clenched his fist and stormed out of the office. Cops were so narrow-minded when it came to civilians offering them their help; it wasn't the first time his assistance had been rejected. He would have to find another way to get his hands on the case files.

Purposely he slowed down his pace and let his trained eyes take in the people hustling and bustling around the bullpen. His glance paused on a petite brunette – the senior agent, judging from the quiet authority that emanated from her – who was currently briefing her own team.

Maybe he'd just found his personal liaison officer inside the CBI.

xxx

"All right guys, we're done for the day. I'll see you in the morning."

Teresa Lisbon waited for her team members to leave for the night before heading back into her office and collecting her belongings.

It hadn't been long since they had taken over the Red John case, but it was becoming increasingly clear that this wouldn't be plain sailing like most of their previous cases. The serial killer seemed far too cunning for her liking, with the lack of forensic evidence and careless mistakes that other killers were prone to making. But, then, as a serial killer, she never expected it to be easy. There was a reason why he was still out there, after all.

However, she also had a sickening feeling that he was playing some twisted game with them as well. The red smiley he always painted above his victims' bodies looked strangely like a mocking reminder of how smart he was in comparison to mere cops. Or, that's how she read it, at the very least.

As she drove back home she barely paid any attention to the road, trying to sum up in her mind all the information she'd found in the case files instead.

All of a sudden she found herself distracted by an apparently pointless detail. At some pointe earlier that afternoon, she had felt someone's eyes on her. Then she had noticed a blond and quite disheveled man staring at her from across the bullpen.

She just couldn't quite explain why he vaguely reminded her of something connected to those case files she had been thinking about.

xxx

He spent a couple of weeks unobtrusively observing his mark. Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon – that was her name – was one of the most loyal and caring women he'd ever met. Well, technically, they hadn't _met_ yet, but he was going to take care of such a trifle right now. He put on his most cheerful smile and rang the bell. As the door opened the woman standing on the threshold stared at him for a moment. Before she had a chance to speak, he interrupted her.

"I've heard that you're the agent in charge of the Red John case."

She frowned slightly, as if she'd suddenly remembered something. "Wait a minute. You're Patrick Jane; I've heard of you. You were husband and father to two of Red John's victims, correct?"

He took in a deep, shaky breath. "Yeah."

"I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

When Agent Lisbon politely invited him inside and offered him coffee, he couldn't help pointing out that he'd rather have tea instead. But now, he was sitting on her couch sipping a cup of tea that didn't live up to his own standards. But that didn't matter right now. Surprisingly easily, he had been able to get into her home.

"How did you find my address, and why, specifically are you here?"

Carefully he placed the empty teacup back on its saucer and regarded her seriously.

"It's easy when you know how. And I'm here about Red John, of course."

"I thought as much," she muttered under her breath.

"I volunteered my services to your boss; I wanted to consult on the Red John case. Unfortunately, he declined my offer."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow. "You're not expecting me to plead your cause with Minelli, are you?"

He tilted his head to one side, considering her question for a while.

"Why not? I'd have thought that any help should be welcome, especially when there's a serial killer involved."

"An amateur snooping around is the last thing we need."

"Okay. How about you let me know some key facts in the investigation? Keep me up to date with the recent developments? I won't tell anyone."

"Mr. Jane, please…"

His gaze suddenly locked with hers. "Agent Lisbon, I _have_ to know who the man that murdered my family is. Can you understand that?"

A look of pity flashed across her face, despite the fact he had rudely barged into her private space. "I know this must be very hard for you. All victims' relatives feel the same way. But you have to trust our department. We're doing our best to catch Red John, and we won't stop until we get him."

Jane hid his disappointment behind a mask of politeness. The woman wasn't such an easy nut to crack as he'd thought at first.

He would have to raise the stakes if he wanted to reach his goal.

xxx

Lisbon stepped inside her apartment, taking extra care with locking the door behind her. She still couldn't quite fathom how Mr. Jane had managed to track down her home address. It felt quite creepy, given the fact that he wasn't even supposed to know her name.

Civilians weren't meant to get hold of details regarding cops' whereabouts. It could be very dangerous if some of those people turned out to be connected with criminal activities of any kind.

She sighed and let go of the thought. That was the least of her problems right now.

It had been the very first time they'd apparently found a solid lead to Red John, and their confidential informant – also known as a former serial killer's minion who'd suddenly decided to betray his former master to the police – had died before their very eyes without being able to utter as much as a single word.

She shuddered at memory of the horrified look that had flashed across the wretch's face when he'd realized that Red John had managed to poison him somehow.

Lisbon grabbed a bottle from the cupboard and poured herself a generous glass of wine. Given the nightmarish experience she's had with her father, she was usually opposed to drinking. She'd been given this bottle as a birthday present some months ago, but had never bothered to open it until now.

With a shrug she settled on the couch. Red John, his dead acolyte, Patrick Jane… she had too many things haunting her mind right now. She simply needed to get rid of them, if only for a little while.

xxx

He gulped another shot of tequila and strolled out of the bar. It was time to set the wheels in motion.

As he pressed Teresa Lisbon's doorbell his mind drifted to Angela, and he experienced an odd pang of guilt.

_Forgive me, my love. This is just a means to an end, a necessary evil. I have to catch Red John._

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Agent Lisbon herself opening the door.

"You again? What do you want this time?"

"I… can't be alone tonight. Please let me in."

He stumbled upon each word just a little more than he would have in any other circumstance. He wasn't that drunk after all, just a bit tipsy. Had he not felt the need to keep his mind clear for his chase after a serial killer, he would have probably given into drink a long time ago.

Lisbon hesitated for a moment, and then finally nodded. She wasn't the kind of woman who'd slam the door in the face of a desperate man; he'd guessed that much.

"You should've called a friend."

"I have no friends."

He could see that look of pity showing on her face once again, and promptly took advantage of it. It was helped by the fact that he could see a half-drunk bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on one of her tables. He wasn't the only one to have been drinking tonight.

"My wife and daughter were all I had in this world. They _were_ my world. It's my fault they died. I don't think I could ever forgive myself for that."

She shook her head, gently and yet somewhat stubbornly. "It wasn't your fault."

"What?"

"Red John was the one who killed them. Not you."

Another pang of guilt hit him, for quite a different reason this time. That woman was so kind and honest, in an odd sort of way, and that was despite her being tipsy too. The alcohol had loosened her inhibitions and he was fully aware that he was about to take advantage of it. It was a shame that he had to play with her feelings in this way. Not that he was faking all of it. He genuinely felt lonely and desperate. Grief and guilt were his only companions, day and night.

"They didn't do anything wrong. He should have killed me instead."

Lisbon gently took hold of his hands in a clumsy attempt to soothe him. That was when he closed the distance between them and kissed her. She didn't react at first, as if her brain had suddenly gone numb and then, she pulled away.

"Mr. Jane, I know you're upset, but this wouldn't help you, believe me."

"I'm sick and tired of being alone with my own demons."

This was the actual truth anyway. Her expression softened all of a sudden, and she slid her hands up to his shoulders.

"Okay."

The last coherent thought that crossed his mind was about self-sacrificing women and men that didn't deserve them.

Then she covered his mouth with her own and his mind went completely haywire.

xxx

"You're an idiot, Teresa."

That was what she kept on telling herself as she showered the morning after. She was a cop, and cops weren't supposed to be sleeping with victim's relatives in murder cases.

Truth was, she'd drunk more than she should have the previous night. And Jane had looked so desperate for some sort of comfort that she'd found herself simply unable to say no.

Well, there was no way she could change what had happened – she reminded herself as she toweled her hair dry. All she could do was keeping him at arm's length from now on.

No more sleeping together, no more sneaking information out of her in between kisses. Though, even she had to admit that he was quite a good kisser. And given the fact she'd had her fair share of one night stands so far, that was saying something.

She had to bear in mind that he was just a victim himself, while she was the professional. She was supposed to be the sensible one, and she was most of the time.

With one last look at her reflection staring back from the clouded mirror she exited the bathroom and headed downstairs in order to fix herself some breakfast.

In spite of what had happened the night before, she still had to get to work in time.

If she was lucky, she might be able sneak out of her apartment before Jane would actually wake up.

xxx

It took him a couple of minutes to collect his thoughts when he woke up in a foreign bed the next morning. He was in Agent Lisbon's, of course. His plan was finally in motion. He had carefully avoided considering how good spending the night with her had felt. She'd set her mind to comfort him, and she had succeeded, or at least as much as the circumstances allowed. Teresa Lisbon was a very considerate lover, and he _had_ been celibate ever since his wife had been murdered.

Slowly he got dressed and went downstairs. He'd managed to coax some interesting details out of her during their love-making; the alcohol had loosened her tongue as well as her inhibitions. However, he needed to know more.

"Hi," she greeted him briefly as she spotted the grey of his three-piece suit through the banister.

He nodded in response. "You going to work?"

"Yes. There's some coffee left… no, you told me you don't like coffee. Well, you could always make yourself some tea. There's a box of it in the cupboard."

"Can't I come with you instead?"

She rolled her eyes with annoyance. "Jane, last night doesn't change anything about the rules. I'm a cop; I'm not allowed to divulge details about ongoing investigations."

Allowing himself a mental smirk as he noticed that she'd just dropped the _Mr._, he gave her an intent stare.

"What if I might be able to help you? What if we could prevent that monster from slaughtering more innocent people?"

He could see the exact moment she finally decided to compromise.

"I cannot take you with me at work. If you come back this evening, maybe I'll be able to tell you a little more."

A charming grin lit up his features. He could work with that. "I'll even make you dinner if you like."

Lisbon waved a dismissive hand and she almost fled through the front door.

The faint blush on her cheeks didn't escape Jane's notice though.

xxx

Damn Jane and damn her own weaknesses too.

She shouldn't have invited him back in the evening; even worse, she shouldn't have promised to give him any details about the case at all.

Just that morning she'd had a meeting with Minelli (along with all the other senior agents), and her boss had spent a good half an hour reminding them the CBI policy about agents divulging details of ongoing investigations. He'd actually intended it as a warning to some of them who seemed a bit too inclined to babble with the press, but still. She couldn't help but apply it to her own current situation.

However, she could tell that Jane was in dire need of that information. He kept on blaming himself for the death of his family, and simply refused to see sense. If a few – carefully chosen – details about the case might actually serve the purpose of giving him something to cling onto, then so be it. She would be more than happy to take the risk. She trusted him not to leak the information to the press; there was something about him that made her feel certain of that.

And yet, there was something that had been nagging away at her since the first time they'd met. She couldn't quite understand what his real intentions were, and that worried her. After all, why was he so adamant that he wanted to help them with the case? Apart from seeking justice for his deceased family, there was the distinct possibility he was up to something a little less rightful.

She didn't like this thought; she really wished she had known more about him before getting herself into this.

If there was something that she hated, that was not being in control.

xxx

They worked together on the Red John case for the next three months. It took him a while to make her open up, and eventually bring him copies of the actual case files, but he eventually succeeded. Lisbon told him every detail that had been kept off the press. Jane kept on making her dinner and sleeping with her almost every night.

Even in the throes of passion, his mind always went back to his wife and daughter. No matter how long they had been dead – and the last year weighed almost like a whole decade on his shoulders – he still couldn't help feeling like he was cheating on them. This was a different kind of punishment. He was using his body to achieve his goal (and therefore, failing to honor his deceased family). It was a somewhat sweet torment for a man that actually craved for his enemy's blood.

The only thing that could ever give him closure was cutting the serial killer open and watching as the life drained away from his body.

He was certain that Teresa Lisbon didn't know anything about it. To her, he was just a bereft husband and father who sought comfort in human contact. She couldn't suspect that his purpose was so very different from hers. As far as she was concerned, he was merely using his insights to assist her in seeking justice.

But seeing Red John behind bars – or even sentenced to death – wouldn't be enough to put his demons to rest, if that was possible at all.

So when she told him they finally _did_ have a suspect, he took the gun he kept hidden in his car and went to fulfill his self-appointed mission.

xxx

To say that the last three months had been weird was much of an understatement.

In a way, Lisbon was pleased with Jane's assistance over the investigation. He always managed to see things that seemed to escape even her trained eye, before he pointed them out.

However, she still wasn't sure why he did any of it at all. They'd somehow fallen into a routine of working on the case for the better part of the evenings, then going to bed together – and that wasn't exactly for sleeping only. She really should have stopped sharing her bed with him months ago.

Except that it seemed to make him slightly happier, and she had come to appreciate having someone to come home to at night.

Now they had finally managed to get a promising lead; and, even better than that, a suspect. They just had to wait for the warrant to come through in the morning. Then, they would be searching that supposedly abandoned warehouse for the evidence that would hopefully lead them straight to Red John.

As she went to bed alone for the first time in weeks, she wondered if she should have kept Jane close to her instead. The manic look in his eyes before he left had been frightening enough, and she couldn't shake away the sense of foreboding that had come upon her right from that moment.

xxx

"Well met, Mr. Jane. Perhaps I've underestimated you, I'll give you that."

The dignified middle-aged guy that was currently mocking him while looking down the barrel of a gun didn't fit his idea of the serial killer at all. He supposed that criminals had to look like normal people if they didn't want to get caught at once. And he still wasn't sure that this was really the man he was hunting, anyway.

"Tell me who you are."

An amused chuckle echoed in the empty hall. "Oh, you _do_ know my name. Don't you, Patrick?"

"If you're Red John, then I'm going to kill you."

"Always so stubborn. Haven't you learned your lesson yet?"

They stared at each other for a good minute. Both of them were holding the other at gunpoint, and there seemed to be no way out of this stalemate. Not that Jane actually minded dying; he just wanted to make sure that his foe was stone cold dead first.

"I don't know that you really are Red John," he countered in a desperate attempt to gain some more time.

"Fair enough. Your wife was very clean. She smelled like coal tar soap and lavender. You daughter smelled like sweat, and strawberries and cream. I expect it was some kind of kid's shampoo."

Bitter tears blurred his sight. That monster had dared to _smell_ Angela and Charlotte as he killed them. Shooting him would be far much less than he would actually deserve.

All of a sudden three gunshots reverberated through the whole run-down building. Patrick Jane couldn't believe his eyes as Red John collapsed to the floor in a pool of his own blood. He hadn't pulled the trigger on his weapon.

Then, he turned around to see a furious Teresa Lisbon standing in the doorway, glaring angrily at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Her hunch had proved to be correct in the end.

Lisbon simply hadn't been able to find any sleep that night, so she had given up and driven straight to the warehouse, alone. If Jane hadn't intended to go and snoop around the building, then he wouldn't have left her apartment at all.

What she hadn't expected was to find Red John himself there. Thank God she had her faithful Glock and a Kevlar vest on, even if the lack of back-up plagued her mind. Contrary to Jane's beliefs, she was well trained to face this kind of situation. After all, it was what she had spent her whole career training for.

Now she was listening to the serial killer exchanging pleasantries with Patrick Jane, as if they weren't pulling guns on one other. What Jane had missed to notice in his anger was that Red John had just knocked the safety off his weapon.

The idiot was going to get himself killed if she didn't step in right now.

She had no choices but to shoot.

xxx

"You just used me, didn't you? To think that I've actually been _worried_ about you…"

"I told you I needed to get to Red John!"

She nodded sarcastically. "Yeah, you simply forgot to tell me that you actually wanted to _kill_ him."

"I had every right to kill him! He murdered my family!"

"No man has the right to kill another man."

He gave her an ironic smirk. "Looks as if you've done exactly that, don't you think?"

"A madman was aiming a gun at your head! What should have I done?"

"You should have let me kill him. Red John was mine."

Lisbon shook her head exasperatedly. "Red John didn't belong to anyone. You're not the only one who's lost loved ones to him!"

"Revenge was the only thing I had left," he told her bitterly. "Now you've robbed me even of that."

"You know what, Jane? Go to hell!"

"Fine," he snapped back in response.

With that, he turned on his heels and strode out of the building. All he wanted now was to put as many miles as he could between him and that woman.

What he was going to do with his life now, he just couldn't tell.

xxx

Lisbon couldn't remember the last time she'd been that furious.

She'd allowed Jane to pull wool over her eyes, like one of those gullible women she constantly had to deal with for job-related reasons. He'd planned to kill Red John all along, while she'd just deliberately shut her eyes to the truth.

How could she even think that a man who worshipped his dead wife so much might actually seek her company only for comfort's sake? Of course he had been using her, and she'd willingly let him too.

In the end she'd also had to shoot the serial killer dead, in spite of her belief that even the worst of criminals should stand trial before they eventually sent him on death row.

Lisbon knew she'd had no choice – Jane's rashness had ruled out any other possibilities – and yet she couldn't help feeling guilty over taking someone else's life. It didn't matter how utterly evil that someone might have been. _She_ had still been the one to end his life and that plagued on her conscience.

All she could do right now was throwing herself back into work, and prove that she was still good at her job despite her repeated failures with Patrick Jane.

She deliberately chose to ignore the worried glances that the rest of her team – and even Minelli for that matter – kept shooting at her from time to time.

xxx

In the end he _did_ take up drinking, now that he didn't have his revenge to focus on anymore. His beautiful Angela and Charlotte were gone forever. Red John finally being dead couldn't change that. He felt like he'd failed them. Not only had he caused their death, but he hadn't been able to fulfill the promise he'd made at their graves.

Red John had met his end at the hands of CBI Agent Teresa Lisbon. It didn't matter that he'd actually contributed to hunt the serial killer down. Sometimes, he wondered whether he would have felt differently had he been the one to pull the trigger. He wasn't quite so sure about it as he'd been a few months ago.

His mind wandered to Lisbon once more. What she'd yelled at him over Red John's dead body was actually true.

He'd used her. And he hadn't ever stopped considering how much he would hurt her by doing so. All she had done was trying to help him through his pain. He still thought about her soothing touches and caresses more than he was willing to acknowledge even to himself. He was supposed to be pining for his beloved Angela, who'd died too soon. How did it come that he could actually crave for another woman's company at the same time?

_Go to hell_, that's what Teresa had told him before they'd parted in bitterness.

Maybe he was going to take her advice this time. He reached for the bottle of sleeping pills he kept on the nightstand and poured its content into his whiskey. Then he downed the shot and laid back down on the pillow.

xxx

Nervously Lisbon wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. It was moments like this when she wished that she had remembered to keep a handkerchief – or at least, some tissues – with her at all times.

Her eyes skimmed over the two plain tombstones, as if she wanted to memorize the way they were engraved with those names.

_Angela Ruskin-Jane._

_Charlotte Anne Jane._

If there was going to be another one bearing the name of Patrick Jane on it – well, that would be entirely her fault. She had been the one to push him away. Of course, she had had her reasons for doing so, but that was beyond the point.

Jane's obsessive drive for revenge had actually been a cry for help and she had somehow missed all the warning signs. He'd used her, that was true; but he'd done it because of the grief and guilt that had been clouding his mind.

Despite everything, she could still judge whether people were good deep down or not. Patrick Jane was a good man. He was a good man who'd done something wrong and even that she could quite excuse – given the tragedy in his recent past.

She drew a deep breath and straightened her back. If Jane was going to survive, she would make sure he wouldn't try to take his own life anymore.

xxx

Jane didn't want to be rescued, but in the end, Lisbon had done so. When he awoke in a hospital bed, she was by his side. The look of concern was apparent on her face, and he had a shrinking suspicion that she'd been crying as well.

"Your hero complex is even worse than I thought," he croaked.

"Shut up, you idiot."

Yet he couldn't help but notice the hint of affection in her voice. He took a deep breath and averted his gaze.

"I'm not worth saving, Teresa."

She squeezed his hand briefly. "Everybody is worth saving. There's still good in you, Jane. No amount of mistakes can change this fact."

"Yeah, I just got my family killed, that's all. And please spare me a lecture on how morally wrong suicide is."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

A somewhat awkward silence fell between them. He wasn't so sure he wanted to take his own life anymore, but that didn't mean he was willing to acknowledge she had a point there.

"What I'm going to do with my life is my choice," he said defiantly. "And mine only."

Lisbon's eyes turned deadly serious. "You're right. However, I don't think that your family would have approved of what you tried to do. And besides, I think that your suicide attempt, and your obsessive behavior, has been a cry for help."

He raised an eyebrow. "Obsessive? Me?"

She simply glared at him, and deep down he had to admit she was right.

Angela and Charlotte wouldn't have wanted him to give up.

xxx

Jane was going to be released from hospital soon, and Lisbon was relieved at the news.

Being the trigger that had actually pushed him over the edge and prompted him to try and take his own life was bad enough. That didn't mean she'd wanted to see him – or anybody else, for that matter – turn into a murderer right before her very eyes.

Still, she felt like she owed him something and that was why she'd kept visiting him regularly, despite his feeble protests. As a matter of fact, she was almost sure that Jane was secretly glad to see her anyway.

She'd just had a talk with his shrink, and the woman had dropped a hint about how Jane needed someone to look after him in the first few weeks at the very least. Lisbon had seen right through Dr. Miller's words, and offered to take care of him for the time being.

It was the very least she could do for him after all. And she was well trained in looking after people, with her job and her previous experience as a surrogate mother to her three younger brothers.

xxx

"Damn it, woman. I'm not a kid of four. There's no need for you to constantly keep an eye on me."

She simply ignored his complaints and poured him a cup of strong black tea. When the doctors had finally released Jane from hospital, they had made it imperative that someone should be looking after him until he was fully recovered.

"Shut up, you overgrown child. Or would you rather have me call your psychiatrist?"

His stubbornness faltered slightly. He had no wish to see that woman again, nor talk about the supposed troubles in his childhood, for that matter. The concept that a man whose family had been murdered only a year ago should attempt suicide because his father had mistreated him seemed ridiculous. Even for a shrink, that was taking it too far.

"I'm not going to kill myself if you let me go. I promise."

"Do you really expect me to buy this?"

He shrugged and took a sip of his tea. Lisbon had finally learned to make it exactly as he liked it, with the milk put in first. It had taken far longer for Angela to acquire the same skill.

"Only if you want to."

During the last few weeks they'd somehow fallen into some sort of tentative friendship. That didn't mean they had stopped arguing or talking freely with one another; quite the opposite, as a matter of fact.

What neither of them was quite ready to admit yet was the fact that they both enjoyed it.

Teresa Lisbon was the closest thing to a family that Jane had had since Red John. Jane himself livened up Lisbon's dull life in a way. Besides, it was clear that she secretly enjoyed having someone to take care of. Her brothers lived halfway across the country, and she hadn't had a boyfriend in more than she even cared to remember. That was something that Jane had already figured out a long time ago.

Absent-mindedly, he began fiddling with his wedding band. He'd always been adamant that he would never commit himself to a new relationship after Angela, but he'd come to reconsider his decision of late. Perhaps he _did_ need someone to look after him. And he guessed that there weren't that many women who'd be willing to take on such a difficult task.

When Lisbon sat beside him on the couch and reached out for the remote, he took hold of her hand instead. Their eyes met and an unspoken question passed between them. Then he rested his free hand on her cheek and placed a lingering kiss at the corner of her mouth. She smiled softly against his lips. It wasn't going to be easy, but they would eventually find their own way.

They just had to take this one step at a time. That was all.


End file.
